


50% Off

by sexylibrarian1



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Valentine's Day related, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:24:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexylibrarian1/pseuds/sexylibrarian1
Summary: You’re working at Walgreens on February 15th, hoping to get some candy 50% off at the end of your shift. An interesting group of people come into the store.One shot





	

 

Valentine’s Day was utter bullshit.

            February fifteenth was the day you waited for; all of the candy was marked down to fifty percent off. You saved up your money starting in February of the year and usually spent around thirty dollars on the chocolate and those awful little message hearts (you knew they tasted like chalk, but apparently, your taste buds didn’t care). This year, however, was special. You were working in Walgreens to supplement your income and got extra discounts on the candy.

            The word _pathetic_ crossed your mind, but you shoved it down. You had never been one for flowers and cheesy romance, and the one Valentine’s Day you had celebrated had resulted in a breakup a day later.

            For the tenth time that day, you checked the clock. You got off in thirty minutes, but unfortunately, the candy had been coming off the shelves at an alarming rate. You had your eye on a particularly big bag of various chocolates, and so far, it was still there…

            Ten minutes. Your pajamas, that bag of candy, a pint of ice cream, and _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ were calling you. Loudly.

            The automatic door slid open, and your now-engrained, “Welcome to Walgreens!” died in your throat.

            Two incredibly beefy men, followed by a female redhead with a body you would commit any crime for, came in and headed directly for the candy aisle.

            “There’s so much…” That was the man still wearing his gloves and coat.

            “We should have gone to Walmart,” the female quipped.

            “They make a lot more candy these days, Buck,” said the other guy, who was wearing a Patriots hat and glasses.

            You watched interestedly as the three of them walked up and down the aisle. The redheaded female was picking up bags and putting them down, telling the man in the gloves what kind of candy it was and whether he should eat it.

            “Lindor truffles. Here.” She checked the price. “This is good. Try these.”

            “There are too many different kinds…” The man in his coat was starting to look overwhelmed; he unzipped his coat and you caught a glimpse of a red henley.

            “Just get one bag each, then,” Redhead smirked, and started putting bags in his arms. Patriots guy grabbed a basket and dumped all the bags inside. Redhead picked up one of the forty-dollar boxes of Russell Stover’s and plopped it in the basket, and then after a quick hesitation, grabbed another one and put it in.

            Red Henley watched silently, and so did you, your jaw dropping slowly as his friends filled up the entire basket. Redhead ended it by grabbing one of the giant stuffed bears off the shelf and handing it to Patriots, who held it with one arm as though it was nothing. “Tony can sleep on this when he doesn’t come upstairs,” she remarked, and both the guys snorted.

            The three of them brought their purchases up to the counter, Red Henley hanging back a little. You offered him a small smile as you began ringing up the candy, and he blinked, before nodding a little.

            “Sorry about this,” Patriots told you with a sheepish grin.

            “Are you three going to eat all of this?” You couldn’t help the skeptical tone in your voice.

            “There are a couple more at home who might want some, but yeah, we’re going to eat most of it.” Patriots looked down at your left hand. “Do you have anyone special for Valentine’s Day?”

            “Nope,” you answered succinctly.

            He got the message. “…What are you gonna do?”

            “I don’t need a significant other to have a decent day,” you snapped, and immediately caught yourself. You were technically still on the clock.

            “Oh… that’s… not what I-”

            “He’s a little old-fashioned,” Redhead interrupted, and got a look from Patriots that suggested there was more behind that statement. “You can come with us if you want. We’re just going to watch movies and eat.” The corner of her lip flicked upward, perhaps understanding the questionable images of an orgy flitting around in your brain.

            Red Henley’s eyes widened a little.

            “Oh… no, that’s okay.” You (finally) finished ringing up the candy. “That’s… seventy-three dollars and thirty-seven cents.”

            Patriots swore. “I only brought fifty bucks.”

            Redhead made a face and dug around in her wallet, but Red Henley beat her to it, and laid down a neat pile of twenty dollar bills.

            “Buck, no!” Patriots protested. “We’re buying this for you!”

            “You’re buying it for everybody,” he retorted.

            “But mostly for you.”

            “Shut up, Stevie.”

            Patriots stopped talking.

            “That’s not fair!” Redhead whined. “How come he shuts up when you want him to, but not when I do?”

            “Because I’m me,” Red Henley said with a snarky grin.

            You suddenly realized that he was rather handsome, even with the long, tangled brown hair, scruffy beard, and hat pulled low over his eyes.

            “Can I have my change?”

            You blushed dully and finished the transaction, and he offered you the same small smile you had given him.

            Redhead was smirking. You resolutely ignored it. “So what did you do to warrant this amount of candy?”

            “I… uh, haven’t really had chocolate before.” His answer was as succinct as yours had been.

            Your mouth dropped, and before you could think about it, you ran to the candy aisle, picked up the bag of chocolates you’d had your eye on, paid for it, and put it in the basket. Red Henley opened his mouth, but you stopped him. “Start here,” you informed him. “These are all the regular name brands. Butterfingers, M&Ms, Hershey’s—don’t eat those, they taste like cardboard—York mints… Most of the Valentine’s Day stuff you grabbed will go back to being expensive in a couple of days. But you can get the stuff in here cheap on the regular candy aisle.”

            “…You didn’t have to do that.”

            “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

            Redhead’s eyes snapped to Red Henley, and you saw his left fist clench and unclench nervously. “Um... you really didn’t have to… but thank you.”

            “You’re welcome…?” With an effort, you stamped down on your confusion, and put a smile back on your face. “Enjoy your… communal candy eating.”

            Redhead giggled. “Sure you don’t wanna join?”

            “No, thanks,” you answered. “I’m gonna go home and eat some ice cream.”

            Red Henley popped open the bag, eyed the chocolates inside, unwrapped a York mint, and put it in his mouth. “…Holy shit.”

            Patriots snorted. “Come on, Buck. You can eat that when we get home.”

            He picked up the bag and clutched it possessively as they walked out.

           

After clocking out, you headed home and did exactly as you had planned. The ice cream was gone faster than you meant it to be, so you supplemented it with the chips you found hiding in the back of your cupboard.

            Your doorbell rang. Groaning, you got up from your comfortable blanket nest and pulled it open. _Better be worth getting me up._

“Are you the Walgreen’s girl?” A lady in a pantsuit was standing there, clutching something wrapped in tissue.

            “Uh…”

            “The one who bought the chocolate.”

            “…Yeah? I guess?”

            “The guy who you bought the chocolate for wanted me to give this to you.” She offered the tissue-wrapped object. “He was in the red shirt.”

            You took it.

            “Happy Valentine’s Day,” the lady told you, and turned on her heel, walking off.

            After a second of wondering how the hell Red Henley could have known where you lived, you unwrapped the object.

            It turned out to be a small pin, made of something like metal or bronze, of two hearts, both with little banners across the centers. A dove was hanging down from the hearts.

            You blinked. Your great-grandmother had received a pin like that for Valentine’s Day back in the 1940s. Currently, it was in your mother’s possession, and from what she’d said, it was at least worth more than a half-off bag of chocolates.

            You turned the pin over in your hand, searching for any notes, but found nothing. Sighing, you put the pin on your bookshelf, looking at it.

            Maybe this Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad… not that that meant anything for the next one.


End file.
